Author: Michael Smith

Rev. Michael D. Smith is Senior Pastor of Clinton United Methodist Church in Clinton, New Jersey. His passion for reaching people for Christ has helped each of his congregations discover new and exciting means for making disciples. Pastor Michael is married to Albree and is the father of three children.
Accents of the ChurchWesleyan Accent

Michael Smith ~ Of Pirates and Preserving Grace: Jonah’s Reluctance

He tells the sailors to toss him overboard, because he believes that his God is acting like all the other gods, punishing him and them in the process. After Jonah says, “hurl me into the sea,” something strange happens. The sailors start rowing to dry land. Though it’s easy to skip ahead and assume that they picked him up and tossed him right in – they didn’t. These outsider sailors are acting in a gracious way.

Michael Smith ~ From Aldersgate to Holland Road

For me, as a Methodist, this is an important day to celebrate. It is important to tell the story of what God can do in a person’s heart, and because of that work, the world could be forever changed. As people who are walking the road of faith, let us point out particular places and stops along the way where God can meet with us. Let’s travel the roads that will invite us to come to the end of ourselves.

Michael Smith ~ Afternoons, Coffee Spoons, and T.S. Eliot

Beyond any book review or helpful ministry-related text I could recommend as a “must-read,” I would encourage you to pull a book off the shelf that has nothing to do with church, leadership, preaching, management, or finance. Let grace, beauty, and truth be revealed to you from the words of those who wish to tell a story, paint a picture with words, and sing a song without music.

Michael Smith ~ Remembering Katrina

It was dark as I gathered around a battery-operated radio with a mother and her two children. We were silent as we strained to listen to the reports. We heard the word “levy,” but I didn’t fully understand what that meant at the time. Sections of the city were being listed, and I didn’t understand what that meant either until she gasped. She said, “That’s me. My house is gone.” She held her children, the only things she had left.

It was like this for days.